


Helping (Hurting) Hands

by sporktato



Series: FAHC Whumptober [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Gunshot Wounds, Manhandling, Near Death Experiences, Whump, Whumptober 2020, with good intentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26862625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporktato/pseuds/sporktato
Summary: In a shootout gone wrong, Gavin get's shot. With the others retreating, he knows he won't be able to keep up with them. His mind is made up for him, even though it means more pain.Whumptober 2020 Day 3: Manhandled
Series: FAHC Whumptober [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957810
Kudos: 8





	Helping (Hurting) Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not super happy with this tbh, but ya know,,, monthly writing prompts sometimes have bad ones I guess,,,  
> Also I realize the manhandling is probably supposed to be by a bad guy but we all know the Fakes 100% manhandle each other when necessary (& probably when not)

Gavin fucking hated getting shot. He shouldn’t have to explain why, it’s a fucking bullet it’s self explanitory. Even more he hates Ryan who takes bullets without any pomp and circumstance. He hates Jack for being smart enough to not only own but actually wear body armour. He hates Geoff for never getting shot in his life what kind of stupid luck is that really? Mostly, he hates the fuckwad that shot him. It fucking hurt. Blood was seeping down his shirt and into his jeans as he hid behind cover. 

All around him was mayhem. Michael’s smoke bombs had flooded the warehouse, seemingly thick enough to dull the shouts and gunfire alighting around them. Ryan had a fucking minigun that was spitting metal faster than Gavin could comprehend and Jeremy was yelling battle cries from the landing behind Ryan as he precisely let out round after round. Michael was grinning like a lunatic, throwing short range hand grenades across the warehouse, fully living up to the name of Mogar. Even Geoff and Jack were shoulder to shoulder behind a half wall, taking shots less accurately than Jeremy and Ryan but still dropping bodies. And Gavin was bleeding out of his stomach. 

Gavin’s golden gun was forgotten by his side as he bunched his shirt up as much as possible to try to staunch the bleeding. His poor shirt. His poor stomach. His gut turns and he has to swallow back vomit. He hates this fucking crew sometimes. There was no reason for him to be here tonight; he could have been set up at home with his laptop and pajamas laughing at his crew from afar but no. He was here on the disgusting warehouse ground, freshly ruined shirt, trying not to lose his dinner due to the hole in his side. Amazing. There wasn’t much to be done but lay low and hope the others finished up soon.

The clatter of the minigun fell silent as the bullets ran out and Gavin flinched as Ryan threw himself in beside Gavin as he grabbed new guns. Ryan paused in his actions, the skull staring at Gavin before looking down to Gavin’s bloody side clamped in his hands. “Yeah yeah.” Gavin mutters. “Let’s just wrap this up.” Ryan nods under the mask before turning back over their cover, double pistols picking up where the minigun ended.

It went on like this for longer than Gavin hoped. Like yeah it was 6 (5 now) Fakes against a combination of 2 gangs but shit they have to run out eventually, right? The answer, seemingly, was no, and from the grimace on Geoff’s face, they were going to have to make a hasty retreat soon. It was only because of how well the six of them knew each other that the next few minutes went without any worse issues. 

Jeremy was the first to move from their posts, jumping down to roll behind Michael to provide cover for Michael to move back. The two from their cover farther back then covered for Geoff and Jack, who were still throwing potshots over their shoulders as they ran towards the door. Then it was just Ryan and Gavin at the front of their line. Gavin, well, he really didn’t feel good. The adrenaline was helping keep him conscious and aware, but the few dozen metres from Ryan’s side to Michael’s side seems like miles, and some part of Gavin intrinsically knows this  _ won’t work _ . Michael’s yelling at him, gesturing wildly and Jack is inching back, probably looking for the nearest vehicle. Gavin’s half a second away from telling Michael no, telling Geoff and Jack to leave him, he won’t get any of the others killed. His mind is made up for him. 

Ryan grabs him around the arm, heaving Gavin up. Already moving and dragging Gavin with him, Ryan throws Gavin’s arm over his shoulder, forcing Gavin to leave his side uncovered and stretch to hang onto Ryan. It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad, heat pulsing from his side, stabbing into him with every single movement as Ryan gets them both to the rest of their crew. Then Gavin is pulled off Ryan, forcing his side to scrunch up again and Gavin isn’t confident he can swallow his vomit this time.

Blearily, Gavin watches as Ryan and Jeremy lay down more cover from their new spot. Jack is running down the street away from them, a dead sprint towards the SUV parked down the road. Michael is at his side, and so is Geoff, but both are much more focused on the fight than him, which is fine. Gavin feels fine now, really. His side feels unattached to him, like the pain is still there but it’s a distant throbbing. Gavin is pretty sure he loses a few moments of time, because the next thing he knows the SUV is screeching to a stop behind them and Geoff is already running to get the side doors open.

Ryan yells something to Michael, jerking his head to Gavin. Jeremy’s gun empties and Ryan’s can’t be far behind and the car is so close but Gavin really can’t feel his body. He’s like goo, slopped on the pavement, just feet away from the car. Michael’s face takes up his whole vision for a second, and then his body lights up with internal fire again.

Michael had grabbed him up, struggling more than Ryan, but the pain jumpstarts Gavin’s senses and he’s suddenly so painfully in the present. Michael’s arm gets under his shoulders, but unlike Ryan who had put Gavin’s wound between them, Michael’s on the other side of him; when his arm wraps around Gavin’s side, his fist clenches right on the bullet wound. Gavin screams and doesn’t hear himself. He’s probably unheard by most under the sound of the guns and others’ screaming but he knows he’s right in Michael’s ear. 

They three-legged stumble to Geoff’s open arms, every single step shoving Michael’s well-intentioned arm against the hole in his side. Gavin is pretty sure he can feel more fresh blood running into his jeans and over Michael’s jacket sleeve. How much more blood does he have in him? He thinks he should be almost out by now. His vision is spotty, but he can make out Geoff’s inked hands and focuses solely on them.

Michael almost throws him into Geoff’s arms and there’s relief from the wound being pressed on that’s too short lived for Gavin to process as he smacks his shoulder off the doorframe. Geoff grabs at him, furiously pulling at anything he can get a hold on with jerky movements, and once Gavin’s shoulders are past him it’s his torso Geoff pulls at. A hand clamps around his side, around the sticky shirt and wound and it hurts but it has nothing compared to once Geoff heaves him up. The pain is white hot, running electricity to his fingers and toes, and Gavin passes out. 

He regains consciousness. The ceiling of the SUV is staring at him and hands are pawing at his side. He barely feels them, but still turns to find the source. Geoff is folded up on the floor of the SUV, poking at Gavin’s side, Gavin’s shirt now rucked up to his armpits. Gavin looks around like in a dream, finding Jeremy, Ryan, and Michael hanging out of the SUV from different windows and the broken back window. Gavin doesn’t know if they’re still shooting at followers, or just watching to see if they got away. Geoff gets a particularly hard poke in on his side, and Gavin blacks out again.


End file.
